The Year Before Tomorrow

Chapter Thirteen- Year II- Altruism Interred

Albus turned on his heel, whisking them away from their grim surroundings. When Hermione opened her eyes she found herself in Albus's office.

"Ariana?" Albus whispered, his voice hoarse and yet somehow hopeful. "Mother?"

The Ring was on his index finger, the other hand still resting on it. This was wrong.

He was visibly dying, hand first. Hermione stared in horror at the spreading curse for only a moment before lunging forward. "Take it off!" she shrieked, grabbing for his hand and attempting to wrestle it away from him. Gods, how had she forgotten?

Albus batted her hand away, surprisingly strong for such an old man. Hermione tripped over a side table and went down, dragging Albus with her by his sleeve. It was somewhat easier to handle his twisting now that he wasn't so much taller than she was, but he was still agile enough to keep her away.

The blackness disappeared under his robe.

In her distraction Albus successfully elbowed her in the face. Hermione reeled back, clutching her bloody lip. In the absence of Hermione's offense, Albus was free to stare adoringly at something only he could see. His hands were closed tightly around the Ring.

She had no choice, not when time was such a factor. Slowly, carefully, Hermione fumbled for her wand and raised it. "Diffindo," she whispered, pulling on her meagre magic reserves and slashing as precisely as she could. It rose sluggishly, feeling somewhat like clogged sinuses, but her desperation gave it the tug it needed.

He screamed and screamed, his concentration broken and the specters gone. Hermione wasn't sure in all the bloody confusion how many fingers she'd cut off, but she saw the huge, ugly ring roll across the floor.

"I'm sorry," she told him, "but I had to. You'll agree that I had to. Just let me heal what I can, please. Please." He would not relinquish his fist, though his piercing sobs and screeches lessened in volume until they were mere whimpers.

The blackness crept out from beneath his other sleeve. She hadn't stopped its spread at all. In fact, it seemed to be getting faster. What could she do to help? What had Snape used? She didn't know! She'd researched, sure, but the method to stopping a deadly curse just wasn't something that anyone recorded in books. It was passed by word of mouth.

There was nothing. She wracked her brain, and there was nothing.

Albus's tiny sounds of pain choked off entirely. It had reached his lungs, Hermione guessed. Very soon it would reach his heart and his whole body would shrivel up and blacken.

Tears blurred her vision, which was a mercy. When the tears fell and she could see again she saw a mummy, a twisted corpse. It was shrinking before her eyes. He was already dead. There was nothing she could do.

She jumped and spun at the earbursting sound of the office door being blasted open. The last thing she saw was the red light of a Stupefy headed straight for her.

*|II8II|*

"Renervate."

Hermione awoke all at once. Around her were an assembly of wizards in Auror robes and with wands pointed at her face. They were in an unfamiliar room that Hermione could only assume was within the Ministry.

"State your name," a man drawled. Hermione turned and noticed him sitting on a wooden chair beside her cot, glaring impatiently and with a Quick Quotes quill poised at the ready. He looked young, but somehow gaunt and self-important. Very Percy-like.

He wanted her name. Of course he wanted her name. She'd been arrested, hadn't she? Albus had died right in front of her with no other witnesses, so naturally she was the prime suspect. The image of blackened flesh flashed through her mind, and dimly she registered the horror but it was like a vision through murky water. "Hermione Granger," she said, shoving the image, and the emotion, away.